Nando’s prices certainly won’t make the eyes water. Zoe Williams would add
that the peri-peri sauces won’t either, if she were the picky sort.

When I left London for university in 1991 you could eat in McDonald's or you could eat in Wimpy or, if your mum was paying, you could eat in Pizza Express. When I returned a new era had begun in instant food. Its name was Nando's.

Here was a meat-flipping joint where the staff weren't down-trodden (fast-food outlets were renowned at the time for giving employees a uniform two sizes too small, so that they felt too fat to scoff the burgers. This is a kind of modern-day slavery, though, of course, it was all rumour).

To this day the company wins employer awards. You could get an alcoholic beverage, which was in itself an invitation to linger, a palpable leap upmarket. You might not choose it for a first date, but if you were young, hungry and in love, it was a perfectly reasonable place to eat.

The reason for all these anomalies – the classy atmosphere at the fast-food prices – is nothing more complicated than the food: it's fast, it's cheap, it's not free-range (though it's all fresh and British, at least, so its carbon mileage isn't huge), it's just like everywhere else, except that it tastes good. Or at least it did – does it still?

Right, so you're familiar with the principle: the meat is marinated for a day, then charred at the last minute. All the marinades are a variation on peri-peri, whose aphrodisiac effect I can't vouch for because I was with my sister.

We went to the Covent Garden branch, which is cavernous and friendly and reminded me a bit of the London Aquarium, though maybe just because most of the seating was downstairs.

Getting into the spirit of the so-hot-it-hurts reputation of the chilli, I went for the 10-wing platter roulette (£8.95). The sting was taken out of the 'roulette' element by the fact that I didn't find the hottest heat all that hot. If anything, the game of luck and chance was in avoiding the mildest flavour, which, trying to be the crowd-pleaser, was a bit too sweet and citric for my liking.

Overall, though, it was great: messy, chewy, zingy, characterful… Wings, naturally, are fiddly, but these were at the fleshiest end of the genre.

My sister had the medium-hot chicken-breast wrap (£9.60) and, again, it bore the hallmarks of a kitchen that does nothing but chicken, that knows the bird inside out, that hasn't dried out a bit of poultry since a freak lapse of concentration in 1995.

It was just right – perfectly moist, the flavour never buried by the sauce, and the sauce a good texture. I'm loth to call it home-made-ish, because it's as industrialised as stainless-steel, but it doesn't have that glutinous sheen that is the off-putting common element of the mass-produced sauce.

Somehow in this pricing (I lack the concentration to work out meal deals) some rice and two corn-on-the-cobs were included. The rice was good. The corn, funnily enough, looked a bit tired but its taste was intense. It had been charred, obviously, after boiling, and I wonder if this didn't have an intensifying effect that made it much cornier.

Chips (£2.10): nice. Coleslaw (£2.10): also nice. No surprises on those scores, but I don't know if you'd welcome a surprise from either dish.

S finished with a neat little 'naughty natas' (custard tart, to you – £1.45), which was fine. I had a coconut tart (£1.45), which I didn't much like; there wasn't enough interplay, in either taste or texture, between the waxy pastry and the desiccated mulch inside it.

They looked very pretty, however, and I think if you were a big coconut fan you might feel differently. We spent £20 a head, but we selflessly ate as much as we humanly could, and we had a pint. I think, nearly 20 years in, it's still got it.

CHEAP AND CHEERFUL...

Mash House Brindleyplace, Birmingham (0121 643 2707)

Spud fans will love the concept (a generous dollop of house or speciality mash with every dish) and the prices: lunch for a fiver or a three-course dinner for £15. Try gammon steak with gooseberry jus.

Chez Fred 10 Seamoor Road, Bournemouth (01202 761023)

Join the eager lunch-time crowds to try the cod, fried in groundnut and rapeseed oil for a thin, crispy batter, with chips, a buttered roll and refillable tea or coffee – all for £6.50.

Vegetarian Food Studio 109 Penarth Road, Cardiff (029 2023 8222)

A no-frills canteen serving great-value Indian dishes. The thali special is a veritable feast: two starters and a well-spiced lentil or red-bean curry, with rice, bread and poppadom, plus a traditional dessert (£5.99)